


we’ve been burned by all our fears

by janie_tangerine



Series: some flowers bloom dead [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Het Relationship, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, What-If, everything you might expect if you read the Theon chapters in adwd, major ASOS/AFFC/ADWD spoilers, things might be start going better for real now, this never happened, though it's going to take a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where Robb has to decide what to do with the people involved in the Red Wedding and doesn't like a moment of it and Theon tries to adjust to his new status.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we’ve been burned by all our fears

**Author's Note:**

> ... okay, so, I'm just going to apologize in advance because while this part ended up being too long for its own good it's kind of a placeholder in the sense that it's all plot-setting and not much of said plot happens, but actually this was supposed to be twice the length that it actually is right now. Then I realized that it was becoming too long already and I'd have been stuffing it with too many things, but I also had to do the plot-setting anyway so here you go, I swear that from next time plot happens again. (Next time is probably going to be sometime in September since I'm pretty much out of town for this month, so sorry in advance if it takes me another month to get it out.) Title is from Gaslight Anthem and sadly nothing belongs to me still (I wish).

By the time the sun sets after they leave the Twins, they haven’t gone very far and half of their party has split. The soldiers going to the Wall left early into the afternoon, and if Robb looks back behind him he sees a relatively small number of soldiers and a ridiculously huge one of women and children - he doesn’t even think about where or how he’s supposed to house them. When they stop, he realizes it’ll take them at least half a day to arrive at the point they were at when he left with Lannister and Brienne of Tarth – and he’ll have to send someone to go get his mother’s corpse. Or he’s going to have to go himself, hoping that everyone that wasn’t Gendry has had the good sense of leaving the place already. The last thing he needs is having to bring even more people to Riverrun.

Suddenly, he feels dead tired. Good thing that they’re not riding anymore for today.

At least Theon - who’s still at his side - looks the good kind of tired.

“Come to my tent for dinner,” Robb tells him after they dismounted.

Theon’s eyes go slightly wide, but he looks so very pleased as he gives Robb a tiny nod and follows Ser Davos to wherever his tent is being set up. Good, because Robb kind of feels like he needs to just _talk_ to someone who isn’t a bannerman or an advisor or who isn’t going to just _listen_ to him, and how much did he miss having someone to do it with? Well, now at least he can. Small mercies. No one looked happy about his decision, but Robb can’t care less as things are right now.

He doesn’t have to wait long – he has dinner brought for two and Theon walks into his tent not long later, looking still dead tired but nowhere near as dejected as he had just a few days ago.

“Take a seat,” Robb tells him as he does the same – the table in front of him is covered in maps but he can’t even bear to look at them.

He pushes one of the plates towards Theon, who visibly swallows when he sees the content. It’s probably better food than he’s had in months.

“Are you sure –”

“Seems to me like in between the two of us, you’re the one who needs good food, so yes, I’m sure. And you don’t have to ask that kind of thing anymore.”

Theon shrugs, reaching for the spoon next to the plate. “I wish I could forget it that easily,” he sighs, but then he doesn’t thank Robb, for which Robb almost feels bone-deep grateful.

He eats a bit of his own stew, but apparently he has no appetite whatsoever.

“What’s wrong?” Theon asks after Robb leaves the food alone for a long while.

“Is that so obvious?”

“I’d know that, wouldn’t I?”

… Yes, Robb supposes, he would, out of everyone. He sighs and leans back on his chair.

“Where do I even start from? When I get back to Riverrun I’ll probably spend at least two weeks dealing with trials, because I have to do it with everyone involved in that bloody wedding. At least thirty men to begin with. Then I have to do the same with Roose Bolton and with Jeyne’s mother, and out of the two I’d rather deal with the first ten times over. Then we can go over the part where the moment the trials are done, I’ll have to leave for King’s Landing with Stannis, and he’s not going to let me take any time to sleep off the last two weeks. Other than that, I actually trusted fucking Jaime Lannister with finding Sansa, but I guess I can regret that when it’s time for it. Oh, and for last, I had a confirm that Arya is a alive, but last she was seen, it was with _Sandor Clegane_. And I’m almost sure that the person who told me is one of King Robert’s bastards.”

“… Wait a moment, weren’t they all killed?”

“Except one Stannis had in Storm’s End, I think, but - this other one had escaped from King’s Landing with my sister. He said that my father had gone to question him when he was investigating Jon Arryn’s death. And he’s – he has the same eyes and hair and built. I really don’t see how he can be a son to anyone else.”

“Does he know?”

Robb shakes his head. “And I think that he… cares for my sister. Let’s put it that way.”

“… _Cares_? In the sense of -”

“She was _nine_ when they met, I really don’t think it’s more than that. But still, I think it’s plenty obvious.”

Theon nods at him once, then drinks from a cup of water and looks down at his plate - it’s empty.

“Take mine if you’re still hungry,” Robb sighs, “I don’t think I can eat right now.”

“If you insist. And what are you planning to do about it?”

Robb shakes his head before putting it between his hands. “Nothing. Or better, I think I’m going to tell him because he should know, and if I ever find my sister again and she wants him to stay at Riverrun or to come back to Winterfell if we ever manage to get back there for good, I won’t be the one saying no. Gods, I wish I had given up this stupid crown when I made the deal with Stannis.”

“Would it have been a good choice, though?”

“No,” Robb agrees - he still needs the title to keep the men and the authority. He doesn’t want anyone to think that he’s fighting _for_ Stannis Baratheon instead of with him.

Theon silently finishes Robb’s food as Robb glances at him and the maps alternatively - Robb is also sort of feeling bad for having dragged Theon around the Riverlands when he’d have been better off resting at Riverrun, but if he hadn’t…

No, it’s better that it went like this.

When Theon is done eating, Robb takes another deep breath.

“And how are you feeling?”

“Me?”

“I wasn’t the one taking an arrow to the shoulder not even a day ago,” Robb says, sounding amused in spite of himself.

“Oh. That. It sort of hurts, but - I mean, in comparison… _in comparison_ , it’s really nothing much. And nothing like it would feel if it was infected.”

Robb doesn’t remember his own arrow wound being _nothing much_ , but then again he doesn’t think that he can even imagine what Theon is comparing it with.

“Good, but have the maester look at it before leaving tomorrow. I suppose you’re still sleeping on the ground?”

“As far as I know.”

Figures. No one other than Robb actually has a decent bedroll, but then again this was supposed to be a quick journey.

He doesn’t know if he should do what he’s thinking of, but he decides that before that, he should at least settle things with Gendry, since it’s the one thing he actually can do and he’s not sure he’ll have much time to spare for anything that is not trials the moment he’s back at Riverrun.

“Right. I think it’s high time I speak with Ser Gendry.”

“Wait, don’t you want me to leave?”

“Stay. I doubt he’ll care either way.”

He steps outside the tent and sends for Ser Gendry Waters - the soldier he asked leaves at once and comes back with the lad not long later.

“Your Grace,” he mutters, looking down at his feet when he’s walked inside the tent.

“Take a seat,” Robb tells him as he nods towards the only other free chair in the tent. Theon has moved towards the back – no one would notice him in the dark, if not paying attention. Gendry still looks down at his hands, resolutely not moving his stare from them.

“Ser, I think I have a few things to tell you. But I think I’d like it better if you looked at me.”

Gendry raises his head then, nodding at him. “I’m sorry, Your -”

“Don’t be. This is – well, this might actually be good news. As far as you’re concerned, anyway.”

“… Good news?”

“It depends, I suppose. Well, let’s get the… main point out of the way first. Did you ever ask yourself _why_ both my lord father and Lord Arryn ended up talking to you?”

“Not - not really. I didn’t make too much of it.”

“Well. My father died because he questioned Joffrey Baratheon’s birth. And - I don’t know if you have ever seen King Robert up close, but I can grant you that you have exactly the same hair and eyes.”

Robb thinks he can pinpoint the moment Gendry’s entire body goes still in surprise. “Your Grace, you can’t possibly –”

“From what I know, you and Arya escaped at the same time each of the King’s bastards was supposedly killed, so I guess no one found you, but –”

“… Oh gods,” Gendry says, his voice sounding so very small. “That - that might not be true. Before - before Yoren died, we were stopped by royal guards along the road. Your sister - Lady Arya, I mean, she was sure they had come for her. But - they said they were there for _me_.”

When he looks at Robb again, he looks completely lost, as if he has no clue of what he should do with that information.

“I think there’s not much doubt left, is it?” Robb asks, trying to sound encouraging or - or anything that might stop Gendry from looking so completely out of his depth.

“And what should I do with it? It doesn’t change much.”

“… Not exactly. I would keep it hidden at least until we reach Riverrun,” Robb says, hoping it doesn’t sound like an order - the last thing he wants is feeling like he’s ordering the poor lad around. “Then - well, Stannis Baratheon is supposed to get there soon, and - I think he would be able to tell for good if it’s the case.”

“And what if it’s the case?”

Robb shrugs. “You should ask his Hand about that, but if I understood the man right, he’s going to use your existence to make his claim stronger. From what I see you’re not that eager to walk into this wasp nest though, are you?”

Gendry shakes his head almost gratefully. “Not really. What small taste of it I had was enough. Of course, if Your Grace thinks I should do it –”

“I understand you even too well.” Robb regrets every day that he ever had to deal with this bloody stupid game – he can’t blame anyone else for not wanting to play it. “I think we should all discuss that strategy, but - well. Remember that _he_ ’s going to become king if the war is won. If it happens, I don’t see why he wouldn’t legitimize you, if you give him enough reasons.”

“And what would I do with a legitimization?”

 _I think I know,_ Robb thinks but doesn’t say. Gendry probably isn’t even thinking about what _he_ is thinking, but fact is, he actually likes him from what little he has seen. And he seems really concerned about Arya, and if Arya stayed with him that long… he shakes his head. His sister isn’t even here, he shouldn’t be thinking about possible engagements that might make everyone involved not entirely miserable.

“Take that into consideration. However, I thought you should know. Also, I was wondering if you would come with me when I go get my mother’s corpse - I need someone to show me the road. I’m not sure I remember it too well.”

“Of course I would.”

“Good. I will let you know when we leave, then. And - when we get to Riverrun, if you just want to stay at the local blacksmith’s, you only have to ask. But if you think about what I said and change your mind, you’re welcome to state it.”

Gendry nods and bows at him before leaving, looking every inch like someone whose entire life has been thrown upside down, but then again – it _has_.

“Stark,” Theon says a short while later, “have I just guessed what you’re planning to do with him or did I forget the way you think in the last few years?”

“Why, what were you thinking?”

“That you’re pondering whether the third time someone tries to marry off a Stark and a Baratheon might be the one time when it actually works out.”

Robb shakes his head as he stands up and reaches Theon, who’s standing as well now. “You still know the way I think,” Robb replies, not unkindly. “I mean, not that it wouldn’t happen before years, but – if we ever get out of this alive, all of us, and if my sister is found, I don’t think that she’ll be able to stay unmarried for long before refusing proposals might sound offensive. And I know she didn’t want to marry at all the last time we saw each other, but - that might actually settle things down and give Stannis one more reason to keep our relations civil.”

“You really haven’t changed at all,” Theon whispers, almost fondly. “I don’t think I know anyone else who’d manage to come up with a marriage of convenience that would make the couple actually happy before it happened. And who’d marry his very highborn sister to a legitimized bastard.”

“Better that than someone she’d hate,” Robb says. “But it’s preposterous to worry about it. And - listen, if you want to sleep more comfortably than you currently are, just stay here tonight. No one is going to notice.”

Theon’s eyes go wide all over again.

“Do – are you serious? Robb, I don’t want to presume –”

“Stop it right there. Do you want to stay here?”

“Can I?”

“I say yes.”

“Then – then yes. But -”

“No buts. Get in the bed, will you? Or what passes for it.”

He’s not going to pretend that he’s doing this for unselfish reasons anymore, at least to himself - it’s been a long week and the prospect of sleeping on the ground with only his guards outside for company is entirely too depressing. Not with everything that has happened in the last three days, anyway, and if he should be above – above this, well, he might as well come to terms with the fact that he’s not. And that it’s not going to change anytime soon, from what it seems. He waits for Theon to take off his shoes and lay down before following him on the other side - thankfully it’s big enough for both. A traitorous voice tells him that before Theon left for Pyke it wouldn’t have been, but Robb silences it as he grabs a fur and drapes it over them both. It’s a tight fit regardless, though, and if they want to be comfortable they realize quickly that there can’t be space in between them. Robb moves so that he’s not touching Theon’s injured shoulder and makes it so that his arms are around Theon’s waist rather than his upper back. He wonders how long is it going to take before he can feel bones through three layers of clothes, but other than that, it’s nowhere near bad. He’s not feeling that residual sense of guilt he used to when this entire business started, mostly because it’s not as if this is the same as it is with Jeyne – it’s really not – and if it wasn’t for the way he can feel Theon’s hipbones against his arm, he could almost pretend that they’re still marching towards King’s Landing when his father was still alive.

Not that he can go on doing that forever, he knows it, but he’s almost surprised by how little he cares about it.

Then he figures that he should come clean about it.

“You know,” he says, moving back a little so that he’s looking at Theon rather than at the ground behind his shoulder, “if you’re assuming that I’m not doing this for myself, either, you’re wrong.”

“I wish I could think you were japing,” Theon says a moment later.

“So at least you’re willing to admit that I’m actually not?”

“It’s obvious. I still don’t get how you can, but -”

Robb knows what he’s about to say, and he’s not sure that he can go through everything he said this morning again, but it’s not as he doesn’t suspect why Theon wouldn’t _get how he can_ still. So he stops him midway and presses their lips together, nothing overtly forceful or demanding, but he doesn’t move until he’s sure that Theon is not going to finish that sentence. He leans back for a moment, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth again - gods, his lips even feel cracked, but underneath they feel exactly the way he remembers them feeling before the war, and he closes his eyes as he moves back to his previous position.

“I told you,” he says quietly. “I don’t care. I’ll agree that you could do better, but for the moment? I really can’t care less. Can we get some sleep now?”

“As His Grace wishes,” Theon mutters, and he sounds slightly annoyed, and Robb feels like he could weep in joy.

\--

When Robb wakes up in the morning, Theon is gone, though his side of the bedroll isn’t entirely cold. Then again it was probably a good call, all things considered, and he slept better than usual for that matter. He takes a deep breath and hopes that he’ll manage to get through the day without any attempted killings. He makes sure that Theon isn’t having ideas about riding in the back – he doesn’t – and then they leave still early in the morning. When they reach the point from where he had left to see his mother, he puts together a small group of people and asks Gendry to please guide them back to where his mother is temporarily buried. They go in silence and Robb goes ahead on his own – this shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish, and he’s not sure that he wants anyone except the necessary number of people to see what became of his lady mother. He also vows to himself to find out how exactly things fared during the Red Wedding when the trials start, because he really would like to have a one on one conversation with the person who materially slit her throat.

They go faster than they had the first time, and Robb is relieved to see that the place is deserted - there are remnants of a fire and a lot of other signs that people had lived here until a short while ago, but he’s glad that he doesn’t have to arrest them as well. The earth is still fresh over the temporary grave and Robb takes a deep breath before heading there.

Thankfully someone had thought of wrapping the body in a cloak, so when they dig it up, the only visible part is a pale hand with dirt under the nails. Robb doesn’t raise the cloak - he takes a deep breath and orders to wrap it in the linen they had brought for the occasion, and he’s glad that the weather is slight chilly because the rotten-sweet smell coming from the corpse isn’t too strong. _I should burn it and keep her ashes_ , he thinks, but he knows he can’t do that right now. He wants a proper funeral, if anything, and he’s not going to burn the body first and pay homage to it later.

 _At least I can bury her_ , he thinks, desperately trying to find the positive side in this entire mess.

It doesn’t work as he hoped for.

Gendry stays silent most of the time, and Robb is about to ask him if he thought back about the legitimization issue, but then he keeps his mouth shut. It’s not time.

—

He decides that they’re going to push for it - he wants to be back at Riverrun as soon as possible and everyone can rest when they get there. He also can’t stand the idea of dragging his mother’s corpse around for a military camp for too long or at all, and that’s how they arrive in the small hours of the morning. Theon looks about to fall asleep on his own horse, Robb notices when he glances at his side, but everyone else does as well - hells, he feels like he can barely keep his eyes open. But there are things he needs to take care of first.

His great-uncle meets him at the gates, looking nothing short of impressed.

“I see that it worked,” he says when Robb reaches him.

“It did. Are there any news?”

“Nothing that can’t wait until everyone has had some rest.”

“All right. How is the state of the dungeons? I mean, how many people could reside in there?”

“How many prisoners are we speaking of?”

“… At least sixty grown men. Or around that number. If we count the women and the children, probably one hundred, but I reckon that the women and the children could stay somewhere else. Also, I retrieved my mother’s body - I need a maester to do _something_ so that it stays preserved enough for at least a couple of days. Or to keep the bones. And my uncle should ride up here shortly. Along with his lady wife.”

The Blackfish only looks surprised at the part where he mentions his mother, but Robb hopes that he’ll see that it’s a conversation for tomorrow.

“… Very well. If you wish to rest, I’ll arrange things about the hostages and the rest.”

“Thank you. Oh, I was forgetting - about Theon Greyjoy.”

“What about him?”

“He’s to be treated exactly as anyone else.”

“… Did something happen?”

“Yes, he saved my life. But I would be grateful if we could discuss this in the morrow.”

The Blackfish gives him a curt nod and Robb doesn’t even pretend to do anything other than heading straight for his room. He knows that he could use a long bath, but he’s too tired to even think about it. He’ll deal with everything tomorrow, he thinks as he drags himself to his door, as the sun starts rising on the horizon line. He takes his boots off after walking in, trying not to make too much noise in case both occupants of the room wake up, but it doesn’t exactly work - a moment later, his head starts spinning and there’s an arm holding him up.

“Jeyne?” He asks, feeling like an idiot a moment later - who else would it be?

“You’re back,” she replies almost hesitantly as she drags him over towards the bed. “How -”

“It went well,” he says while she takes off his doublet, and he feels mighty grateful. He isn’t sure he’d even know where to start from. “But - can we have this conversation later?”

“Of course,” she answers softly, and he’s out the moment his head touches the pillow. He barely feels the touch of her hand against his hip.

—

When he wakes up, the light coming in from the window is blinding. He blinks a couple of times, then groans out loud as he forces himself to sit up. Sleeping in his dirty clothes hasn’t been a great idea, but at least he feels marginally better.

“Good afternoon,” Jeyne says from his right side. The baby is sleeping, curled against her chest, and she looks positively radiant.

“Afternoon? Gods, how long did I sleep?”

“Throughout morning and lunch,” she says, “but you were obviously exhausted.”

“Hells, I was hoping I’d get up earlier.”

“Why exactly?”

“Well. For one, I have to see how did my uncle work out the situation with the prisoners, since I came back with a hundred of them. Then I need to start planning who’s going to trial first, and I can’t lose time because Stannis is going to come back here shortly and it needs to be done as quickly as possible. Then I need to see what’s of my mother’s body, which I ended up finding along the way and I really can’t go into details about that. Oh, and on top of that, I’m sure that the main subject discussed between my bannermen right now isn’t any of that, but - well. I might have pardoned a certain person. For good.”

“Theon Greyjoy?” Jeyne asks cautiously. “That isn’t exactly surprising, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What?”

“Robb, you’ve been wanting to do that since you came back from the North in the first place. May I ask why, though?”

Robb shrugs. “He put himself between me and an arrow headed for my neck.”

Jeyne’s face goes pale at once, but Robb shakes his head reassuringly. “The only thing that was hurt in that deal was his shoulder, but – you said it. I already hated that situation and I wasn’t going to let it fester when the idiot could have died.”

“I can see why,” she says in a small voice, her hand reaching for his. Her clean, pale fingers make a stark contrast to his own - he has dirt under his nails and he’s actually spreading it all over the bed sheets.

He squeezes her hand, though, before standing up. “All right. I need to get out of these clothes. And – uh. Probably you should have the sheets changed. And – gods, I really don’t want to ask this of you, but –”

“I know,” she says quietly. “The trials.”

“I wish I didn’t have to, but -”

“Robb. I could have been there. And – and my brother was there.” She looks down at the baby in her arms and then back up at him. “She swore left and right that if he hadn’t tried to free your wolf they’d have spared him, but as it is, no one has even found the body and she sent him there knowing what was going to happen. And even if the plan was sparing me, I’d have – I’d have been there and I’d have seen you die in front of me. I can’t exactly forget that either. Just – do what you have to. I wouldn’t have warned you otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s smiling slightly when she answers.

“I know. Go and have it done with. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back, right?”

He smiles at her as convincingly as he can manage, and then he leaves the room, wishing things were different at least under that regard.

This is going to be a long day.

\--

When he asks the maid to get a tub ready, he tells her that he’ll just bathe wherever they’re usually kept - he doesn’t have time to have it brought up to his room. He heads for the servants’ quarters, where the girl said that they have a room where more than one person can bathe at once. When he walks in, it’s almost empty. Except for Theon, who’s scrubbing at his arms in the tub nearest to the wall - the tub that’s been filled for him is on the opposite side.

“I see you had the same idea as me,” Robb says, and Theon looks at him almost startled.

“I didn’t know that you would –”

“That’s fine, just finish. Do you think I mind?”

Theon doesn’t say anything as Robb takes off his clothes and climbs into the other tub – hells, he seriously needed it, he thinks as he sees dirt leave the top of his hands at once.

“How long have you been up?” Robb asks a short while later - Theon is obviously doing something to his nails, probably cleaning out the dirt from under them, but he can’t see too well from this side of the room.

“A while,” he answers. “I figured I’d come down here also – also because I don’t have to be upstairs only anymore and they said no one needed it right now.”

“Did anything happen while I was sleeping?”

“Not that I know. I think your great-uncle put all the grown men in the dungeons and said that it still was too many of them for the cells they have. The others are somewhere in the nearest village, but apparently the people in there are still grateful to your uncle for taking them in when Riverrun was assaulted back in the day, so they’re more than willing to help out. Other than that, no one looks too happy with your decisions concerning me, but I guess you imagined that already.”

Robb sighs as he scrubs down his legs.

“Let them be unhappy. Damn, I’m this tempted to bring you to the next council just because I can.”

“I – I really don’t think that it’d make things any better. But thanks regardless.”

He stands up a moment later, and he reaches quickly for a towel that had been ready next to the tub, but it’s not quick enough – Robb almost feels sick when he sees the extensive scarring surrounding his groin. In comparison, the fresh wound on his shoulder looks like nothing at all.

He doesn’t say anything though - he’s sure that breaching the subject would be a colossally bad idea.

Then he remembers something. “Listen, before you go – I’m going to have to put under trial a lot of people from now on. One of which is Roose Bolton.”

He sees Theon’s hands slightly shaking as he reaches for a clean shirt that had been folded next to the towel on the windowsill.

“And – obviously I can’t add what happened to you to the list of reasons I have to take his head, but – do you think that if I need you to, you might testify?”

There’s a moment of silence as Theon laces up his shirt. Meanwhile, Robb gets out of the tub as well – he’s cleaned his hair as much as he could and he’s definitely not as filthy anymore - it’ll have to do.

“Yes,” he says a moment later, “but – well, there are a lot of things I’m trying to get straight right now.” His voice sounds small as he steps out of the tub for good, scrubs his legs dry and puts on his smallclothes and breeches. “I mean,” he keeps on when he’s done, “by the time you got there, I wasn’t – as bad off as I could have been, I guess, but to say one, I only remembered that thing about the brotherhood when I saw the bodies. Mostly it’s that I – I kind of try not to think about it, so I don’t know how useful I could be, but if you ask direct questions I’ll probably have answers.”

Robb swallows as he dries himself as well and puts on his clothes, too - Theon doesn’t move, still looking outside the window, in his bare feet and reaching for the bandages that he has to re-do around his shoulder, and Robb regrets for the umpteenth time that he got rid of Ramsay Snow that quickly and painlessly.

“I won’t ask if there isn’t the need, but thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.” He moves closer, knowing that he couldn’t afford to waste time, but at this point he might as well do it. He puts a hand on Theon’s elbow, holding it gently and squeezing around it before letting it go. “Do you need help with the bandage?”

“You shouldn’t –”

“It can’t take me that long.”

Theon hands the bandages to him with a shrug and Robb wraps the wound again carefully – he doesn’t know what is worse about it. He can’t decide if he hates the sight of the still red, tender flesh (at least it looks healing and not infected), or if he doesn’t because it’s nothing compared to the rest. The skin on Theon’s back has regrown, but Robb can still distinguish three different shades of pink along his shoulders, and he’s pretty sure that some old scars that have faded into dull pink rather than white are whip marks - an arrow wound looks like nothing in comparison.

He wordlessly makes sure that the bandages will hold and then he takes a step back. “Done. If you want food brought upstairs, just ask the maid.”

“Thanks,” Theon replies, looking down at the windowsill as he reaches for his shirt. Robb leaves him as he laces it up slowly, and Robb would have had more to say, but he really has no time now, so he leaves and goes to search for his great-uncle, while trying to sort out how exactly he’s supposed to start dealing with the mass of problems that seems to become huger whenever he thinks about it.

He finds the Blackfish in the solar - thankfully he’s alone. Good, because Robb needs to have this conversation without anyone else listening. Also, he thinks he has a couple of things figured out, but he wants some advice first.

“Your Grace,” his great-uncle says. “Should I call a council?”

“No. No, I would speak with you alone first. Also because there are things that should be arranged which… well, the least people know for now, the better. But before, do you have any news for me?”

“Stannis sent a raven, said he should be here in a couple of weeks at most. His efforts are apparently paying off but he needs to convince a few more lords to turn their back on Mace Tyrell. Jon Snow sent another saying that still couldn’t find your brother yet, but they’re looking still and there might be leads. All your hostages are more or less housed, but I’d advise you to go fast with the trials. I’ve had to put up to five people in the same cell and I don’t like any of that.”

Robb is almost tempted to tell him to send some people with Roose Bolton as well, but the danger of having the men actually speak to others is too high. Pity, because apparently he didn’t lift a finger to discourage his son from doing the same to others. “I was planning to start tomorrow, after… well, figuring out the order, I suppose. But before that, there are two things. What’s of – what remains of my mother?”

The Blackfish swallows. “The maester is working on… making the process go faster so that you can have her bones only. Apparently the body was too ruined for anything else. He said it would take him a few days.”

“All right. The second thing… well, I met someone along the way who gave me some interesting information about my sister. Arya, not Sansa.” He chooses not to mention that he actually trusted Jaime Lannister with Sansa, for the moment. “He said that the Hound had found her after deserting or so they heard.”

“ _Sandor Clegane_?”

“Yes. The boy who told me, his name is Gendry Waters, had come all the way with her from King’s Landing until he ended up with the Brotherhood without Banners. Which is where I found my mother, but it’s a long story and we should save it for another time. Anyway, apparently they found Clegane along the road and tried him - he won his trial by battle but they took his money. From what I gathered, my sister escaped from there after and then they heard that Clegane had caught her, but from what the boy said, he seemed more interested in gaining back the money the Brotherhood took from him. Maybe he thought he could ransom her.”

“When was this?”

“Before the wedding. But I haven’t stayed for long in the Riverlands since then, and I doubt it’d have been safe to go after me. And - of everything Clegane is, from what I hear, he’s definitely not stupid. He might be hiding with her. So… if you know four or five trusted men that would travel around and ask some questions, I would be grateful.”

“I think I can find some. But that’s not all, is it?”

“No. The boy I was talking about? I’m almost sure that he’s one of King Robert’s bastards.”

The Blackfish blinks twice before his expression turns shocked. “He’s _what_?”

“He said that they escaped from King’s Landing with a Night’s Watch recruiter who brought Arya, too. That was just after my father died. He said that at some point along the road some royal guards had stopped them and said they were searching for him, rather than my sister. Clearly he had no idea why, but… he’s also King Robert’s splitting image. Or well, the way he would have been some twenty years ago.”

“And what is this boy doing right now?”

“Helping the smith, I wager. He was training to become one and I told him to ask if they would take him.”

“Good gods,” the Blackfish whispers, “this could -”

“Win us the war, couldn’t it? I know. But I wouldn’t tell Stannis until he’s here in person, and the least number of people knows about it, the better. It’s not something I want to write in a raven. Let’s wait until he gets here. But for now… it wouldn’t be bad if someone was paying attention and see that nothing happens to him.”

“I can see why you would do that. Very well, I’ll arrange it.”

“Good. The search party for my sister should leave as quickly as possible. Other than that – I need advice.”

“For what?”

“I don’t – I don’t want to try Lady Westerling in public, if I can help it. I know that – that if I followed protocol, I should do that and find myself another wife, but that’s not what I want.”

“You want to deal with this quickly and silently so that it doesn’t become common knowledge and her role isn’t made clear for everyone who doesn’t know?”

“Exactly. But like this, I can’t kill her. And I don’t even want to. Still, I can’t have her imprisoned only, since it’s worked so well until now. The Silent Sisters could have been an option, but – I still don’t think it’s good enough. She still could write, if not speak. What do I do with her?”

“Exile her, I wager.”

“But where? Essos is big. If I exile her, she could find someone to plan with from there. Or write to Cersei Lannister. Or anything of the kind. I’d just send her to the Wall if I could, but I can’t.”

The moment Robb says that, there’s a knock on the door - the maester saying that there came a raven from the Iron Islands. The Blackfish goes to get it and reads it, and Robb sees him smile the moment he’s done.

“What does it say?”

“I think there’s the resolution to your problems,” the Blackfish answers before handing Robb the raven. It’s from Asha Greyjoy – she says that she won the kingsmoot and that her uncles didn’t even bother showing up again, and he’ll have his fleet in weeks, and she wants to know how Theon is doing.

And then Robb understands what his uncle had meant.

“I need a ship ready to depart for the islands from Seagard. And an escort ready in a few hours. The moment I’m done answering her, she’s leaving. The council can wait until tomorrow morning, then I’ll start with the trials in the afternoon.”

He writes to Asha immediately and answers point for point, then he asks if she might pay him a favor and deal with the woman that they’re going to send to Pyke in a short while, and then he calls the maester so that he can send the raven.

Then he heads straight for Lady Westerling’s cell.

\--

“Your Grace,” she says, looking thinner than the last time he saw her, and sounding utterly disgusted with him. Not Robb’s problem. “To what I owe the honor?”

“No honor, I fear. When I’m done talking to you, a guard will come to open your cell. You will have half an hour to go gather your things in your former room. After that, you’re riding to Seagard and from there you’re boarding a ship to Pyke, and from that point I wash my hands off you.”

“… What?”

“You’re being exiled on the Iron Islands, if it wasn’t clear enough. I sent Asha Greyjoy a raven telling her to make sure that you don’t pose a danger to anyone, and she’s free to do whatever she sees fit to make sure that it stays like that. Maybe you’ll stay on Pyke, maybe she’ll send you somewhere else, I don’t even care, but she’s allied with us and she wants to win because she’ll finally get her crown if we do, so I think that if you try to turn her against me, it’s not going to work. And you’ll stay there as long as I see fit.”

“… Aren’t you putting me under trial?”

“I guess you hoped I would. The same way Walder Frey hoped that I’d kill him on his deathbed, right? No. I don’t want my hands dirty with your blood and I don’t want your daughter to suffer more than she already has, which I suppose was never a concern to _you_. No, I’m not giving you the satisfaction, and believe me when I say that thinking about what your scheming did to my mother I really, _really_ want to. Enjoy the Iron Islands. I’m told the weather is miserable.”

He leaves as she stares at him in a way that is between hateful and surprised.

Her problem. He’ll be glad if he doesn’t see her ever again.

\--

The sun is starting to set when he goes back to the solar, having at least dealt with that situation entirely. It’s empty, but on the desk there’s a list with all the names of the prisoners, divided into trueborn sons and nephews and bastards. Robb’s head hurts just staring at the seemingly endless number of names.

Now if only he knew who played which part, he sighs, because in that case he’d have specific trials just for those people. As it is, he’s only sure that he wants Roose Bolton and Ryman to have a trial on their own.

 _Well_ , maybe he can solve that specific problem.

When his great-uncle comes back not long later, Robb has figured the situation out as best as he can.

“I changed my mind about when the trials should start for the majority,” Robb says. “I need another couple of trusted men.”

“I can find some. For what?”

“Get one appropriate clothing and send him to the cells - have him pretend to be some Lannister soldier we caught along the road and ask our prisoners questions about the Red Wedding. Likewise, find someone in the village who can be trusted and try to get information from the women currently residing there. I need to find out who exactly was behind the wedding, I can’t believe that this many people had the same role in planning it. I want the names. If I have just ten or fifteen people that are directly responsible, I can deal with all the others at once instead of losing precious time to interrogate everyone face to face. But I suppose it’s going to take a couple of days to gather said information, so everyone can take a bit of rest until then. That said, before dinner I want to talk with the ones who said they had nothing to do with the wedding.”

“You mean, your squire and the other two with him?”

“Yes. The gods know what they might actually tell me, but I still should hear them out.”

“I’ll have them sent up here after I deal with the spies, then.”

“Thank you.”

And that’s done, too. Gods, he doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Anyone else in his place wouldn’t have gone as far as hearing anyone out, not after that massacre, but here he is. Then again, he did it with Theon, didn’t he? Maybe it’s a good thing that he’ll be done with this kingship business soon - he’s entirely not sure that he’s suited for it.

Not long later, the door opens and three people walk inside, faces mostly downcast, but Robb can recognize his former squire even without looking at him in the face. He looks a lot wearier than he used to, he thinks bitterly as they sit down in front of him with their hands chained. The other two are older – Perwyn and Alesander if he doesn’t remember wrong. After a moment of frankly awkward silence – awkward to say the least – Robb sighs and clears his throat.

“Very well,” he says, “I would hear what you have to say.”

Olyvar looks up at him, looking so sincerely contrite that Robb feels taken aback for a moment. “Your Grace - I wasn’t there,” he said. “I – they didn’t tell me until the few previous days, because they knew I wouldn’t have agreed with it. It was – they locked me up in the dungeons because – I guess it was obvious that I would have tried to warn you. I know you have no reason to believe me, but –”

“I remember that you didn’t want to leave in the first place,” Robb sighs. “And what about the two of you?”

Perwyn straightens his shoulders, but it’s not a good attempt – he looks mostly ashamed. “We didn’t want to have anything to do with it. That wasn’t – we both thought it was too dishonorable when we knew the plans. And we said it out loud. They sent us away the moment after so that we wouldn’t be around, the both of us. With this said, we do realize that there’s no way we will get out of this alive – our family did a despicable thing against yours and you have to take your revenge, so – I suppose not having supported the plan doesn’t mean much, but we hoped it might be enough not to have a public execution. If only because as far as it concerns me, I would like to die without being directly mentioned among the others who actually planned it.”

Olyvar and Alesander nod along with him and Robb already knows that he’s not going to kill anyone in this room. It’s obvious that neither of them is lying, and to be honest he doesn’t want to spill more blood than necessary.

“Actually, there might be a way,” Robb says wearily a moment later. It’s almost comical when the three of them look at him in sheer surprise. Almost. “At least, so that neither of you dies. I will put the captives under trial and I’ll probably end up killing most of them because I _have_ to, but I thought it should be obvious that I am enjoying none of this. I don’t – I’m not out for Frey blood. I can see that you weren’t a part of that, and I really have no interest to take heads when I can avoid doing it. I also guess that since you weren’t part of the plan you don’t know much about it,” he adds, figuring that he can swing this so that he’s sure that they aren’t lying, “but – the best I can offer you is this. You tell me everything that you know about who was behind it and which part they had in the planning. I want the names. I don’t have your heads and I take you as hostages for as long as it takes for this matter to die down. After this war is done, we can see the terms again. If not – well, there won’t be a public execution, if that’s everything you want.”

The three of them look at each other for a handful of moments, Olyvar nodding first before the others follow. Alesander speaks first.

“I’m afraid that we don’t have that much to say,” he sighs later. “As for me, Ryman came, explained me the plan and said that I was supposed to be singing _The Rains of Castamere_ during – well. From what I gathered, it was the sign to start with the killing. I refused and two hours later they sent me away with Perwyn. I figured that Ryman had to be heavily involved, but that’s everything I have.”

 _Great_ , Robb thinks, they seriously had planned it to the last details, didn’t they? And that wasn’t anything he couldn’t have realized himself, since Ryman Frey had in fact tried to kill him not three days before, but it’ll have to do.

Olyvar goes next. “He was the one telling me that, too. Or better, he came, informed me of the plan and half an hour later I was locked up. He said that Lord Bolton was primarily involved, too, but that’s all I knew.” And he sounds almost sorry. The wrongness of this entire situation is making Robb want to hurl.

Perwyn takes a deep breath next. “I think Lothar was the one planning the details. I mean, deciding who should be doing what. Or so Ryman had told me before realizing that I wasn’t liking the plan at all. Roose Bolton was also involved directly, too.”

“So I can assume that he wasn’t just offered the chance and took it, right?”

“It didn’t seem so to me.”

“All right.” They’re definitely not lying – they’re not offering him information they just invented, if anything. “You can go. I’ll make sure that you get one room each – you won’t be able to leave but you won’t be chained. And – well, Lady Roslin isn’t a prisoner and she can come and go as she pleases, so if any of you would like to see at least her just tell the guard and they’ll see to arrange it. I won’t do anything for the next couple of days or so – if you don’t want to attend the trials, I won’t be ordering anyone to bring you. And that’s all I can do.”

Which is probably more than they all expected, considering the thanking that follows after. Which is ridiculous – he’s about to have an indefinite numbers of family members of theirs killed, thanking him should be low on the list of priorities, but he won’t be the one pointing it out. He instructs the guards and they leave, and after they’re done he collapses in the chair and puts his head in between his hands, wondering how could it all have gone so fucking _wrong_ and how he came to a point where he’ll have to cut at least thirty heads. Never mind that he won’t cry tears for at least Roose Bolton and Ryman Frey, but still, he’s not going to enjoy a second of it. He thinks he’s about to get a headache, and he decides that he’s done for the day – there’s nothing else that he can do for now, and he’s too tired to deal with anything else, and he just wants to sleep some more and maybe talk to someone who’s not going to expect miracles from him.

His feet lead him to Theon’s room, figuring that he could stop there a moment to check on him before going back to his and Jeyne’s room, but before he can knock, he hears Jeyne’s voice saying that she knows that Robb might be dead if it weren’t for him and she wanted to say thanks personally, so he’d better just accept it.

Robb also _knows_ that he should leave, eavesdropping is never a nice thing to do, but curiosity gets the best of him and he freezes on the spot, his fist halfway towards the door, not knocking yet.

“There’s really no need,” Theon replies, sounding as if he doesn’t know what to do with whatever it is that Jeyne said to him before Robb heard that last part of the conversation.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I told you to look out for him.”

Wait – did they talk to each other already? Probably, Robb figures – but then why didn’t Jeyne tell him and why would she have told Theon such a thing?

“Not what I had in mind either,” Theon mutters to himself, but it’s loud enough that Robb can hear it.

“I hope you’re doing well?” Jeyne asks a moment later.

“It hurts some, but it’s really nothing too bad,” Theon answers. “Really. I’ve had a lot worse than that. And – as much as it’s hurting right now, which isn’t much in comparison to… some other things I’m thinking of, I think it’s nothing compared to what it was like when I realized that he had an arrow pointed at his neck.”

Robb isn’t sure that he can go on listening to this conversation without giving himself out – he doesn’t yell _how can you say that_ just because he stops himself at the last second. Or maybe he knows how Theon can say that, and any other time he’d have been flattered, but not when he knows what’s behind it. He always wanted the two of them to be equals, not this completely unbalanced thing which somehow is the best they can do, and not for the first or last time he wonders where did they go wrong. When it was that changing course of action could have avoided all this.

“How was it?” Jeyne asks, her voice slightly quivering.

“I’m not even sure I can put it into words.” He takes a deep breath, then starts speaking again. “It goes back to – to what I did. I know I made mistakes. Seven hells, I feel bad calling them _mistakes_ , it was a lot worse than that. And I wasn’t exactly enjoying any of that, back then, but – I was too far gone to stop. Then –I had more than enough time to think about where I went wrong. Maybe it’s not just where _I_ went wrong, since – someone told me once that in some circumstances it wasn’t me making the choices, so I suppose that some of that couldn’t be helped, but still. And – I knew things were wrong because I had ruined it between me and Robb. I wasn’t really hoping that I’d have a chance to make up for what I did, though. I thought I’d either die or he’d kill me first. When I saw _that_ , I could only think that if that arrow hit him, I’d have lost… not just my second chance. It’s not as if I exactly have anything else to live for in the first place. At that point I might as well have died, so – so I did it. But the more I think about it, the more I suspect that it was more selfish than it’d seem like.”

“Dying in his place would have been _selfish_?”

“I don’t even know if I can explain it better. But yes. Then again, I was never known for being particularly selfless even… before everything went down.”

Robb should really leave. He isn’t sure that he should be listening to this. But he can’t move - he’s still standing outside the room, unable to leave or to knock or to do anything. He isn’t even sure that he can follow the reasoning - how was that selfish, he can’t even begin to guess.

“It made sense just to me, didn’t it?” Theon asks a moment later. “It’s that… I did it for myself as much as I was doing it for him.”

“I think I get it,” Jeyne replies, “and I still think that you would deserve someone that isn’t him thanking you for it. I’d know how that feels, too.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen it from the moment we were married. No one liked it. No one openly disliked me, of course, but it was obvious that every single person in the army wished that I’d have stayed a maiden, after that night. I don’t regret a single thing up to this point, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t understand how it is when everyone but a few people obviously dislike you regardless of your intentions. And – I don’t know, I wouldn’t have blamed him if he left me behind, but he didn’t, and at times I can’t help thinking that maybe it’d have been better for him if we never met at all but – it makes me sick whenever I think about it.”

“I do that as well,” Theon admits, his voice going a fraction lower. “I know it would have been better. But I never wish that we had never met. I just wish I had made different choices.”

Silence falls a moment later, and Robb can’t help it when he drops sitting on the ground outside the door, taking deep breaths, his head in between his legs, and he tries not to do something stupid like having a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. It’s not that he didn’t know any of that, he had imagined pretty well that he hadn’t made popular choices when he married Jeyne and when he was trusting Theon before he left for Pyke, as much as his latest choice regarding Theon won’t ever be popular, but he hadn’t realized how _bad_ it must have felt for them until now. Mostly, he can’t honestly believe that they’d deal with all of this just because of _him_ \- he’s not exactly worth any of that, is he? She’s given up her own family twice because of him and they married when they hadn’t known each other for a week, and Theon – well, regardless of everything that’s gone down, thinks that risking his life to save Robb’s was _selfish_? And he still had gone to war with him in the beginning even if he could as well have stayed in Winterfell, didn’t he? 

Robb wishes he hadn’t been that blind back then, that he had realized how screwed things were in regards to how most of his men seemed to tolerate Theon’s presence at best, he wishes that he hadn’t assumed that Jeyne would win over everyone the same way she had won his heart, but back then he was fifteen and he had this stupid faith in things working out as long as he behaved the right way and tried to repair his mistakes honorably. He thinks about the way Sansa’s eyes would lit up when she heard those romantic songs about knights saving maidens, about how sure she was that eventually she’d have found a beautiful and kind knight for herself and suddenly he misses her so much it hurts. He wishes she were here and that he could tell her that he knows exactly what does it mean to have all your notions shattered (fine, his own weren’t shattered by his betrothed but by a wedding that wasn’t even his and that he still thinks he should have attended), but he doesn’t even know where she is. Maybe he should have tried to exchange Jaime Lannister for her earlier. Maybe it would have changed things, wouldn’t it?

Suddenly he feels so tired he can barely even think.

“Should I ask to have dinner brought up?” Jeyne asks a moment later. “Oh. Unless you’d rather go downstairs. I mean. You could now, couldn’t you?”

“I could,” Theon replies, “but I’m not sure it’s anywhere near a good idea. And the last thing I need is being stared down for daring to show up, not that I don’t see why that would happen.”

“I guess I can have it brought up for two then,” she says. “Robb probably will be up dealing with things until late and… I don’t think I need staring down as well. Not after my mother left this afternoon.”

Robb doesn’t even think before he knocks on the door and lets himself in.

Theon is currently sitting on his bed, Jeyne is in an armchair in front of him holding their daughter close to her chest - she’s sleeping - and the two of them have twin surprised looks on their faces that would have looked amusing in any other occasion.

“I decided that I was done for the day,” Robb says when no one says a word, then he nods toward Theon. “I – I thought I would see how you were doing before going to my own room.”

“How – how long have you been outside?” Theon asks, his voice barely audible by this point.

“Long enough,” Robb sighs before taking a few steps and sitting down on the bed so that he has Theon on his left and Jeyne on his right. “And if you’re having dinner brought up, you might as well have it brought up for three.”

“Are – are you sure?” Jeyne asks.

“One evening without me staying up there until late won’t change anything and everyone will think that I’m figuring out the order in which I’ll take all the heads I need to take,” he replies almost bitterly. “I’d rather be here. And – I don’t think I can have this conversation right now, I’m too tired, but if it changes anything to the both of you, I wouldn’t do things much differently either if I were to re-do it all over again.”

Jeyne’s eyes go wide before she nods and stands up, but she’s obviously tired and he can see that her eyes are red-rimmed. Of course they would. Her own mother still went into exile, didn’t her?

“If you want to leave the baby here, it’s no problem,” Robb tells her a moment later, when she sees that she’s almost stumbling over her dress. Jeyne hands her over a moment later, a small smile curling up the corners of her mouth, says she’ll be back in a moment and leaves to find a maid. Robb takes a moment, cradling the tiny warm bundle to his chest and marveling at the fact that she hasn’t woken up yet, then takes a deep breath and looks straight at Theon.

“I’m going to say this once,” he says after clearing his throat. “The only thing I’m blaming you for is Winterfell. Because all things considered, I can’t blame you because no one except me wouldn’t look past your surname. I can’t even blame you for staying in Pyke – if you had come back, the more I think about it, the more I think that they’d have wanted your head anyway since your father would have gone to war in the first place, and – I don’t think that knowing that _I_ would have had you back would have been enough against all the rest. I don’t know if I’d send you to Pyke again, knowing how it went, but even if I hadn’t done that in the first place, everyone would have still asked for your head, and I _know_ that none of what happened before you left was your choice. Just – try to keep that in mind. You don’t need to feel guilty also for things you couldn’t have helped in the first place.”

“I guess I can try,” Theon concedes a moment later, and Robb wishes that it could be easy, that he could fix things with a snap of his fingers, but he knows it doesn’t work like that and he wishes that the damage had been done just by their own actions. “But it still was one of the most selfish things I ever did.”

“I never liked you for your selflessness,” Robb tries to joke, even if it falls flat, but Theon half-snorts before smiling just enough for Robb to decide that it wasn’t a bad effort. 

“I swear I won’t make you regret it,” Theon says a moment later. “I mean. That you –”

“I know,” Robb cuts him short, because he doesn’t even want to hear it. He’s understood it pretty well, and he’s this close to break down anyway, and the weight in his arms won’t anchor him forever if he pushes himself over the edge. It’s all in the way Theon looks at him, and he doesn’t need him to speak to understand.

Jeyne walks back into the room a moment later.

“It should be ready shortly. But maybe - you look tired. Do you want to lie down?”

“Do you mind?” he asks Theon. Now that he’s been asked, he feels like he could sleep for half a day.

Theon looks at him like he’s gone mad and Robb figures it’s enough of an answer. He hands back Catelyn to Jeyne, then he lets himself fall down on the bed, turning on his side, and he’s pretty sure that Jeyne wraps her fingers around his own a moment later. He isn’t sure that he dreams it when he feels a hand with three fingers pressing against the small of his back and rubbing tiny circles, but he’s too comfortable (for once) to even think about it further.

When he wakes up, it’s night, and he’s sure that at least two hours must have passed, but there’s food on a small table that’s been brought at the center of the room and it’s all covered.

“You could have started without me,” he mutters as he forces himself to stand up and join both Jeyne and Theon at it – there’s a free chair in between the two of them. Jeyne stands up and goes to the bed, carefully laying the baby down on the covers.

“Now that would have been beyond rude,” Theon says, and for a moment Robb feels like someone has clenched his heart in a fist because that was the closest Theon has sounded to… to the person he used to know in months, even if his hair is still gray and he’s still too thin and he’s never going to grow his fingers back, but Robb feels like he could cry in gratitude.

Jeyne sits back next to Robb a moment later and starts uncovering the plates – there’s enough stew for three, some wine that looks pretty good, some fruit and lemoncakes for more than three people. Robb resolutely tries not to think about his sister again. Neither of them speaks while they eat, no one says anything when it takes Theon a lot longer than the two of them to get through his meal and Robb doesn’t feel as horrible as he was when he walked by the door anymore. He still isn’t looking forward to the next few days, he’s still worried about too many things and he still feels like this is all too much, and he wants things to be as easy as they were when his father was still alive so bad that it hurts, but this – this feels good, and so what if at some point he slows down so that he can make the dinner last for as long as he can?

For a moment, as he reaches out for a lemoncake, he feels ridiculously grateful that at least it seems like Jeyne and Theon don’t… outright dislike each other, he figures. If anything, he thinks, a friendly face can’t hurt. Not in this situation they’re all in. For a moment he thinks about what comes after tomorrow – he needs to have things ready, he’ll probably have to hear his own spies, he’ll have to see too much blood for his own liking and then Stannis is going to get here and they’ll probably have to leave for King’s Landing, he still misses his mother like he’d miss a limb and he just wishes he could get back to Winterfell and rest, but it’s not time yet - and then he decides that he’ll worry about it later. He bites down into his lemoncake and pushes into the touch when he feels Jeyne’s hand covering his knee under the table, when Theon sends him another small grin he smiles back, and he decides that while things are far from perfect, this feels nice, this feels good, and he’s going to let himself bask in it before tomorrow comes.

He tries not to listen too much to a small voice that tells him _maybe this could be just the beginning of something good_ , because he’s learned too well that it’s not the case to nurture such hopes, but… there can’t be any harm in enjoying what good he can, or at least not too much harm. At least he has this much. He could be dead, and if he was – if he was, Roose Bolton would probably be in his place right now, Theon would still be in a dungeon, Jeyne would have been married off to some Lannister and his daughter wouldn’t have even been born, probably, and that’s not even half of what could have happened and didn’t. Maybe he should have been at the wedding, and a part of him will think that forever, but as it is, he knows that it was a good thing that he hasn’t gone.

“Robb?” Theon asks a moment later, interrupting his train of thought.

“What?”

“You’re looking – like you had the night before the Twins,” Theon says carefully, not giving anything else out. Wait. The night before the Twins was – oh. When they went to find the Brotherhood.

“I’m just tired,” he lies. “Really. It’s not – nothing like that.”

“He’s right, you know,” Jeyne says, sounding as if he’s not convincing her at all. “Are you sure that it’s just being tired?”

“Maybe not just that,” he admits. “But as it is, it’s better that I tell myself it is.”

Theon looks at him as if he understands what he means completely. Jeyne not so much, but she obviously understood the gist of it.

“Then you should probably get some sleep,” Theon says a minute later, forcing himself to stand up. It’s obvious that his feet are hurting just because he’s standing. Robb does the same, but he ends up swaying on his feet – right. Maybe he should have stopped at the first glass of wine – now other than tired he feels like his head is spinning, and he only had two. He doesn’t even expect it when Theon grabs his arm and steadies him.

“Is your room at the end of the hallway?” Theon asks Jeyne a moment later.

“Yes.”

“Right. Uh, I can get until there. I’ll help him stay upright while…” he gestures towards the bed. Jeyne nods at him and goes to retrieve the baby – she’s stayed asleep until now and Robb is starting to envy her that, but it also was a good thing, he supposes – and she heads out first, leading the way while Theon follows, keeping an arm around Robb’s waist. It’s barely enough to keep him upright and that’s all he’s doing, but it’s enough and Robb appreciates the effort wholeheartedly.

“Thanks,” he mutters while Jeyne opens the door. He glances at his left, meets Theon’s eyes.

“Anytime, _your Grace_ ,” Theon answers, sounding almost amused. He wishes Jeyne good night and then he turns his back on them and walks back towards his room, still slowly. Robb hates how painful it looks like.

He closes the door behind him and takes off his boots before collapsing on the bed.

“I thought you’d be… a bit angry?” Jeyne says a moment later.

“About what?”

“Well, I never told you that I had spoken to him already,” she answers as she places Catelyn in the crib next to the wall.

Robb can’t help laughing a bit, at that. “You’re not my prisoner and neither is he. I was just surprised, but – it wasn’t even a bad surprise. And if you still think that I didn’t do a stupid thing when I pardoned him, then I won’t be the one complaining – having two people thinking that I didn’t have it wrong is better than one.”

“Is he the other?”

“Theon? No. He thinks I shouldn’t have and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t changed his mind in the last five days. The other person is Davos Seaworth.”

“Too bad,” Jeyne replies, leaning down and wrapping an arm around his waist. “My opinion hasn’t changed. And – I just – it’s obvious that he cares about you,” she says after a moment. “As – as _you_ , not as in, his king. Before you left, I asked him to keep an eye on you because I – I know you might have needed to talk to someone who doesn’t see you just that way. I have no clue of what happened, but it seems to me that you definitely did the right thing.”

Robb feels oddly touched, at that. “Well. Good to know it’s not just me and one other thinking that I’m being a sentimental idiot, then.”

“You might be, but it doesn’t mean that it’s a bad thing, in this case. By the way, just because I ended up having to tell him and I guess I should have told you at some point… when did you happen by that door?”

“When he said there was no need for thanking him. For, you know, taking that arrow.”

“So you didn’t hear it. Well, when I got in there he looked definitely embarrassed, and I tried to see what it was, and that topic about you two sharing beds was brought up again, and he kept on saying that he was sorry.”

“Did – did he explain the circumstances?” Robb asks, wondering why she sounds amused rather than angry as she should have been.

“Enough that I think I understood the deal. And… Robb? Let’s just get it over with this once. I don’t really care.”

“… You _don’t_?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t even know how to explain it, but - Robb, I think it’s obvious that I can’t be with you all the time, or all the time I would like, at least until this war is over. I suppose the same is valid for him, however you want to see it – he _did_ say to my face that you’re the only reason he has to live as it is, so it’s obvious that however he cares for you, he _does_. I’ve known you for two years and I’m not – I wasn’t blind throughout them. You thought your brothers were dead, you haven’t seen your sisters in years, Jon Snow is on the Wall and your mother died – I’ve seen how bad it was for you. And I can only do so much – I couldn’t have gone North with you, and I can’t go to battle with you, but _he_ can. If he’s everything that’s left of the people you grew up with and if he makes your life even slightly better, then no, I’m not angry. I’m just glad that you have someone that can be that for you if I can’t. If I made any sense. And – we’re in the same position, more or less, except that he’s a lot worse off than me. I understand how it might work even too well. So no, I don’t care. I’m not sure that he understood it fully when I tried to tell him, but I should hope that you would.”

“I – I think I do,” Robb answers, drawing her close and trying not to break down crying all over again. Even if he’s this close to it, but then again he’s been this close for the entire afternoon. Her hands go at his back, her nails digging into his skin hard enough that it hurts, and as he hides his face against the hair on her shoulder and breathes in, he feels slightly less burdened, and he figures that letting himself forget about everything else except the way her arms are tightening around his frame and about the way Theon’s hands had felt on his hip earlier in the hallway until tomorrow morning, then he’s earned it.

End.


End file.
